All Alone
by Lola Me
Summary: Less than six months after moving to Colorado Springs for her new assignment to the Stargate Program, a sudden turn of events throws Samantha Carter’s life into turmoil and leaves her distraught. COMPLETE ish ... after a loooooong hiatus!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I know it's been a long time since anyone has heard from me. I think this fic will probably actually explain why. Hopefully I'll get time to continue my other fic, Alter Ego, soon._

_Please be indulgent with features of the Stargate universe and characters I may have slightly altered. I think you'll know why when you read. Above all, I hope you tell me what you think._

-

**Part I – What the?**

The door closed behind him and Sam was left all alone. In the space of a minute everything had changed and she was literally speechless. She had the impression that her brain, mind, body and everything else had been replaced by lead. He hadn't just done that had he? Had he really left? Had he really said what he'd just said? But that made no sense… only a short while before that he'd been just like normal. Why would he have such a sudden change in character? Why would he suddenly leave? _What just happened?_

Without knowing how, Sam realised she had moved from the couch and was now standing fixed in front of the door, studying the uneven wooden surface. She realised her entire body was tense, her neck arching towards the wooden barrier before her – her ears straining to capture any sound that could indicate he was coming back.

As the adrenaline seemed to ooze out of her through her legs and feet into the carpet beneath her feet, she became acutely aware of the chill fast spreading across her apartment. The simple sensory observation made her turn around. She'd forgotten that just 5 minutes beforehand she'd turned the heating off and returned into her lover's embrace on the couch. That was just a moment before her world had disappeared, dissolving just as the warm air dispersed and cooled.

Ignoring the heating control unit on the wall she set her eyes on the couch instead and stumbled clumsily towards the comforting cushions and blanket heaped at one end. Her eyes now filling with incoherent tears, she burrowed into the corner of the couch. A wrenching sob escaped from her lips as her entire body jerked with the silent pain that paralysed her. A single mantra filled her mind as her life seemed to escape through her tear ducts: _That didn't just happen. He didn't just do that. Everything will be ok._

* * *

The last two months of her life ran through Sam's mind seemingly all at once.

The moment she'd got the papers confirming the reassignment to Cheyenne Mountain she'd known her life was going to change. And it wasn't before time either. Her life in DC had plateaued and every new day seemed to bring more of the same, comfortable, but unchallenging existence. Her work analysing the Stargate was, of course, enthralling. But not being able to actually _see _the technology and phenomena she'd spent so long researching meant that even the world's first encounter with matters extra-terrestrial had become jaded, ordinary even.

It didn't help that she'd failed to expand – let alone have – her social life for what seemed like an eternity. Sure, she had had a core group of friends and spent a lot of time with her colleagues, but it had felt like she wasn't living – merely existing instead. Long story short: the Stargate Program hadn't only the opportunity of a lifetime – or the fulfilment and surpassing of her dream to visit other planets. That was certainly the case, but more than anything else Sam had recognised the move as heralding a new scene and a new start.

She hadn't known how much her life was going to change – and she hadn't known that the change wouldn't be limited to her day-to-day job. That first meeting where a roguishly-handsome Air Force Colonel had spoken his mind with such biting wit, and with no thought for the pseudo-niceties of politically-correct madness that had taken over much of the world… that first encounter with Jack O'Neill had sealed her fate.

The attraction had been instant, and Sam had been oddly conscious of the fact even at the time. What she hadn't been aware of, and what had completely shocked her, was the fact that he not only returned the sentiment but it also seemed to exceed her own. This was something that had never happened before.

There had always been a measure of unevenness to her relationships before Jack. Mostly the men she went out with wanted more from her than she from them. She'd never understood how people could serially date. If the feeling wasn't there, she never saw the point. One night stands? They just left her feeling ashamed and depressed about the lack of a real relationship in her life. She'd even thought there was something wrong with her. Maybe she was unable to really feel or show affection? Maybe she was gay?

The day she met Jack all those concerns and fears had evaporated, lifting the burden of loneliness from her shoulder and streaming hope into her life. For the first – and what she was sure was the only – time in her life. Everything was _right._

* * *

The TV blared back into life abruptly as the VCR couldn't hold the pause function any longer, stopping the tape and exposing Sam's fragile senses to the brutish sounds of a hardware commercial. She looked at the box of moving pictures, not recognising what it was, why the colours were changing, nor even what the garish sounds emanating from it meant.

All she could think of was how _right_ her life had been with Jack in it; how effortlessly contented she'd been and how everything had seemed to exist in a periphery to what was most important – her life with him.

It couldn't be over. It just wasn't possible. He didn't just run out of the apartment and leave her to dissolve in despair. That just wasn't who he was…

At that moment, Sam made an unconscious decision and went into numb denial. Her mind closed off the portion that was being difficult as she did anything not to think about reality. Taking a deep breath, she reached shakily for the remote control, pulled the blanket over her body and up to her chin, and channel surfed until she found a TV show she wanted to watch – something with just enough plot to keep her mind occupied. She settled for _Law and Order: Criminal Intent_ and let her mind waft into the hypnotic lull of crime drama.

She didn't think about how the man she loved had just left – she didn't even think of the man she loved, or even the fact that she did indeed love him. Instead she let her mind wander with Detective Goran's instinctive reasoning style as yet again the streets of New York City were faced with a diabolical serial killer.

* * *

Despite the instant attraction, both Sam and Jack had remained strictly professional during their first mission and the subsequent couple of outings off-world.

Although not obviously spending time together, they seemed to constantly be bantering in one on-going conversation around base or off-world. Miraculously, both would appear at the mess hall at the same time in search of the less-than-adequate base coffee. In truth, Sam would purposefully saunter slowly passed Jack's office as he would languidly throw a rubber ball against the wall. She would speed up as soon as she was clear, just as he would be scrambling to get out of his chair before anxiously waiting, looking at his watch, and finally following her down the corridor with an extra light spring in his step.

As he reached the mess hall, Jack would casually draw up along side Sam and continue their conversation – often completing a sentence he'd left midway through the last time they'd taken to the corridors together.

It had become clear early on that Sam's expertise was invaluable to the SGC. It was no surprise that her request to serve on a separate team to Colonel O'Neill's SG1 was met with some resistance. Her insistence and importance to the Program, however, proved too much for the brass to ignore. Despite the strong case against the move, Sam had convinced General Hammond at least that she would be just as useful in a different SG team – spreading the expertise, as it were. She didn't doubt he was aware of the real reason for the move. The man seemed oddly tuned in to the wellbeing of those under command. What's more, his friendship with Jack was obviously a factor.

Still, that wasn't going to be for another six weeks when more personnel had been properly trained. She and Jack had an unspoken arrangement whereby they were getting to know each other, but were not moving towards a relationship while still in the same direct chain of command.

Then one night a bookshelf and some spicy pasta had brought all that sensible-ness crashing to the ground.

* * *

The distinctive theme tune common to the _Law and Order_ series reverberated through Sam's mind and she absent-mindedly turned the TV off. 11.30pm. If she was going to be able to get up in time for work, it was definitely time for bed. She walked into the kitchen, turning off the light while considering her wardrobe for the next day. Sure, she would only wear her civilian clothes for about 45 minutes out of the whole day. But it was the 15 of those spent with at the café in town on the way to work that she usually planned for. If she just acted like nothing had changed, then maybe he would be there in the morning, waiting for her as usual.

Without looking where she was going or even thinking of anything in particular, she brushed her teeth and performed her rituals in the bathroom before mechanically changing into her pyjamas and sliding under the covers of her bed. It occurred to her briefly that it was the first time she'd slept in her own bed for some time. It would be the first time she'd slept alone for even longer.

She thought it odd that she wasn't upset. She hadn't cried following her initial episode on the couch. She'd always heard of people not being able to sleep or eat when something of this nature happened. The eating part she could understand. She felt almost sick with an uneasy queasiness settled in her stomach. But the insomnia? How could people rob themselves of such blissful nothingness? Maybe they were afraid of dreams or nightmares, but she knew her own body. There would be no dreaming tonight. She stared at the white wall with cold, lifeless eyes and let sleep overcome her senses. She welcomed the heavy feel of her eyelids closing not only over her eyes but also over her foggy mind. Maybe when she woke up everything will have returned to normal.

* * *

It was a bookshelf and spicy pasta that changed Sam's life.

During a portion of their ongoing conversation, Jack had mentioned a bookshelf that needed replacing at his house. He was going to buy one on the weekend but Sam had an infinitely better idea. She had been going to donate a perfectly respectable bookshelf as it didn't match the rest of the furniture in her new apartment. She'd told him this and the matter had seemed settled. _He could come round to her place anytime to pick it up. _

When Jack had asked if that Thursday would be convenient, Sam's mind had gone into overdrive. She'd always scorned those she'd perceived to be weak: those girls who fell apart if their clothes were 30 seconds out of fashion; those girls who completely lost their heads when it came to boys in school, college – and scarily enough – adult life. Yet there she'd found herself, newly transferred to Colorado Springs and suddenly spending much of the day conspiring to pass by a certain corridor at a certain time, or purposefully driving to the supermarket that little bit farther from her place – not because it had a better choice of specialty cheeses (although this was blissfully true), but because she had figured logically that it would be his supermarket (little did she know at the time that he didn't _do _supermarkets).

Needless to say, an impending visit on Thursday night meant action was required. As luck would have it (and tended to in the early stages of their relationship – another thing that Sam still hadn't come to terms with), she had made a couple of other significant contacts in her short time with the SGC. Among these she had quickly discovered that the Doctor on base enjoyed the same passion for swimming as she and they had taken to swimming together twice a week, sometimes sharing a meal afterwards. Thursday was one of these nights. As soon as Jack had suggested Thursday for the Pick Up, she had formulated the plan and casually put it in place: she had told him to _come round after 8 as she wouldn't be home before then_, and put it to him that _there was spicy pasta to be had and good company in the form of herself and Janet – if he was interested. _He was.

The Friday following the fateful Thursday event, Sam hadn't been able to help holding her head higher as she drove into the SGC. As she had passed the security checkpoints and waved at the guards just before she reached the elevator, she had found herself wishing she could tell them all: she and Jack O'Neill had kissed – and he was a damned good kisser! Her heart had filled with something beyond joy and she her eyes had sparkled with radiance.

Both she and Jack had acted as if nothing had happened during the day. At O'Malley's that night – the usual haunt for SG teams at the end of the working week if they weren't off-world – both of them had acted as per usual before Sam had taken the bull by the horns. _You wanna go somewhere?_ He'd started walking while she collected her things – winking at Janet – and they had disappeared into the night.

What had followed met Sam's wishes and desires and made her want to smile to the point of idiocy. She they had both sat in the Wine Bar in the centre of town, sipping Shiraz in a secluded corner both, the idiotic grin on Sam's face had only been matched by the idiotic grin mirrored on Jack's. The smooth, velvety feel and taste of the wine had relaxed them both and she had felt beyond content in his strong and comfortable arms.

Little had she known, within three months that warm embrace would be painfully absent, and she would have absolutely no idea why.

* * *

_A/N: Well? Do you care what happened? Wanna know what happens next? Let me know!_

Also, thanks to whoever it was who nominated 'Solid Blood of the Spirits' for a fanfic award! I was completely stoked when I got the email – please vote for the story if you liked it!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback I got. It's good to be back in the game! Unfortunately, I'm about to go away for a week so won't be posting for a bit, but know that I'm going to miss it! I won't even be able to check reviews… I hope to be pleasantly surprised when I get back!

I didn't have a disclaimer last time – it got left out – so here it is: the concept and characters linked to Stargate SG-1 etc are NOT mine. I'll thank the actual creators et al for not suing me, since this is just a vain attempt at self-therapy.

* * *

Part II – Spiralling out of control 

Sam woke early on that Monday morning following the Jack's abrupt and inexplicable departure with a great sense of void in her self. As she reached hurriedly for the alarm to deactivate the painfully piercing beeping she could feel her brow furrow as she tried to figure out why somehow things felt… wrong.

The fact that she was in her own bed was the first clue. The fact that she was _alone_ in her own bed was the next, more perturbing, clue. With the force of a truncheon the reason things felt wrong suddenly became apparent – but she tried her best to ignore them. She purposefully did not look at her cell phone – he may have called or messaged – but instead swung out of bed with well-practised determination and headed towards her shower. She refused to let herself think about the possibilities of what had happened – she refused to even let herself think about what _had_ happened.

Mechanically she washed and rinsed and conditioned and rinsed her hair; got out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror to apply moisturiser, attend to her eyebrows and try to place some preliminary order in how her hair was organising itself on that particular day. She tried not to look herself in the eye – on the few occasions that that actually happened, she quickly looked away. Her most important preoccupation was to keep moving – and not dwell on what may or may not be.

Wrapped snugly in her towel she traversed the small bathroom and went back into her bedroom. Usually, at this point in the morning, she would plan her outfit for maximum effect at the coffee shop on the way to the SGC. It was an infallible routine that she had established only since she had met Jack. Previously, she'd never been so… well, shallow. She'd always thought those who spent so much time on their looks to be vain or insecure – then she'd met Jack and understood that the way she dressed could be a tool, a pleasure, something to make the man she had rapidly fell in love with happy. The simple notion that this routine might have – or might have to – change suddenly struck her.

Suddenly she was unable to control her thoughts or emotions. She let her towel drop to the ground and stood at the centre of her bedroom looking vacantly towards the closed closet. The fact that her choice of clothing would be in vain – the idea that she would have no special reason to wear her 'sexy' jeans; the notion that the new low-cut top she'd bought only two days beforehand was now not going to be properly appreciated – all this and more made the tiny knot of tension at the centre of her chest begin to ache and grow. Tears filled Sam's eyes and she started shaking her head and chanting to herself, unable to think or move beyond her one plea: _Don't do this Jack, PLEASE don't do this_. Over and over, her muscles had started quivering with the stress of trying to keep her emotions in check as she felt herself spinning out of control.

The sound of her alarm shocked her back into the room – she must have hit the snooze button earlier so it hadn't been deactivated. It was as if her eyes had previously been closed and now she saw her bedroom for the first time since her shower. Realizing she was naked and getting nowhere, she forced herself to take a couple of deep breaths. After all, there was no sense in panicking. In all likelihood he'd figure himself out and everything would be fine. _Everything will be fine_.

Glancing at her phone, and trying not to be disappointed that there were not missed calls or messages, Sam slowly and deliberately started getting ready for work. She didn't care what she wore. She had now turned her mind off completely and was concentrating on the smallest of details – how she wanted to replace her bedside table; how she had planned to get new manchester for her bed. Her mind was empty and yet filled with the banal doings associated with establishing a new home in a strange town.

* * *

Those first few night in his bed Sam hadn't slept well. She never slept well on the first few nights spent sharing the bed with someone – not that there had been _too _many men. It wasn't that she got nervous, but more that she tended to either be blissfully content or disappointed with herself – either way it made for a sleepless night.

With Jack, it had definitely been contentment. She hadn't wanted to go to sleep because she'd wanted to enjoy the feel of laying in his arms. The warm smell of his body next to hers – god only knew how something _smelt _warm but that was the only way she could ever describe it – the sound of his breathing as he slept… the fact that he would sleep talk in a singularly adorable fashion… it was all too good to miss out on by actually sleeping herself.

Still, she had been restless and near the morning of the first full night together he'd woken up and, in a moment that had sealed her fate in terms of her feelings towards him, asked if she wanted to go home. She had felt like bursting into tears of joy right then and there. Here was a guy that was concerned she was upset/uncomfortable/un-anything… the sound of his voice told her this. The strength in his arms as he had subsequently hugged her tightly when she answered 'no' was all she needed to confirm that they were going to be great together.

* * *

Sam didn't know how she'd managed to get herself out of her apartment that cold, all too lonely, Monday morning following 'the disaster'. At some point, though, she realised that she was in fact outside the house and even driving down the main street in her car, en route for the SGC. She had never felt anything but contentment to be going to work before this day, but suddenly there was a sense of despair or unease that was painfully close to the surface of her psyche. She struggled to keep her mind moving as her right hand mechanically changed gears – she had slowed near the coffee shop but forced herself to depress the accelerator again and keep moving. _Give him time… don't force it. _

Her sole aim at this time was to get to work. There was no message on her phone – no missed calls – but it was possible there would be an email from him in her inbox. Maybe he would be waiting for her in the carpark; maybe at the entrance, in the elevator, outside her office – _in _her office. At each of these psychologically-induced checkpoints she reminded herself that it was unlikely he would be there; and still at each point she felt her heart sink deeper into what felt like a black hole inside of her when he wasn't.

Luckily she was going to have a busy day at work that day. There were reports to be written and briefings to be held. Even though she wasn't due to go off-world, her time would be well-spent and she even had to leave early as she had organised to visit an old relative who lived nearby.

The day passed without the fog of numbness ever lifting from her psyche. No-one around her seemed to notice the difference and she avoided Janet. To the casual observer she was merely engrossed in her work as per usual – even in her short time at the SGC people had learned to recognise the Captain's keen intellect and dedication to her work. Jack would have noticed the difference though: he would have noticed that the sparkle was no longer present in her eyes. Although she carried out her work as diligently as before, her heart was not in it – the excitement had gone and what appeared to be intense concentration and brilliance was in fact the vision of a robot completing its tasks.

All day she avoided looking at her email or phone. Every time she did there was nothing there. A new message would appear and her heart would leap; but then she would see the name of the sender and sink further within herself – further down than she had felt only moments before hand.

At 5pm she left work to go to her Aunt's flat for dinner. She kept her cell phone visible and within reach at all times during the evening – all to no avail. Twice her Aunt asked how "that nice looking man" was, and whether he was still present. Sam only knew to answer that he was fine – she couldn't admit that something had happened to herself, let alone to others.

All through the evening she felt the tension building beside her. It was the same feeling of despair that had so suddenly overwhelmed her that morning following her shower. She made her excuses to her Aunt earlier than usual that night and took the dark streets shortly after 8pm to go home. Despite the early hour, the night sky was blacker than ink and even the stars didn't seem to be shining as brightly. Sam's hands gripped at the steering wheel with a tense ferocity as several times she felt a lone tear fall down her cheek and her hold on everything started to slip. Again she resorted to deep breaths and relaxation techniques such as counting slowly. She tried to distract herself with the radio but none of the music on the limited networks available seemed to be to her taste for the particular mood. She wanted something loud, something fast, something full of angst, and something angry. Instead, it seemed that every turn of the dial landed her on some variation of "love song dedications." The world was clearly conspiring against her.

Only 10 blocks or so from her house she was forced to stop the car at a significant sob finally escaped through her lips. She felt as if it had been sitting at the top of her throat since that morning and almost felt relieved to be rid of it. Instantly however, she felt another, larger, lump forming in her throat that would not wait to explode as the previous one had done so. Quickly she threw the car into first gear and took off, her sole aim to get home before the walls came completely tumbling down around her ears.

* * *

It was funny how she hadn't been able to tell Janet or her Aunt about Jack's speedy departure from her place that night. It had been the same when she and Jack had got together. Of course, Janet had figured out that something was going on, but Sam had still kept her cards very much to herself for a couple of days. She had avoided seeing anyone and instead had skulked away by herself, a brilliant grin constantly adorning her face the only clue as to what was going on.

If she thought about it carefully, it was a mixture of uncertainty and even shame that had made her do it. The intensity of feelings she had for this man she really barely knew had scared her even at this early stage – and simultaneously had made her feel weak and girly. For so long she had been the strong one – the woman who could hold her own with the guys and even beat them at pretty much every turn. In falling for one of the most senior and respected airmen on the base she had felt that she'd somehow betrayed her mother's efforts for women's lib.

Every moment she had spent away from him – even at that early stage – had been torturous. Moments spent in the same room but at work had soon become even worse – every time she had seen him she'd wanted nothing more than to talk to him; then to touch him, hug him, kiss him, and inevitably end up in bed with him.

She had been acutely aware of how annoyed she had been when one of her friends in her young recruit days had fallen for a guy in this way – she had been annoyed at how hypocritical the young woman had been to the cause of equality between the sexes. So much for that – Jack O'Neill had single handedly (and without even trying) managed to make Sam forget every inch of the empowering doctrines that had thus far ruled her life. She had given them up unhesitatingly, willingly, and with her eyes wide open. A year ago she had thought herself too cynical for love – but a year ago she hadn't met him.

* * *

Sam only just made it home from her Aunt's place before the torrent of emotion that had been trickling through the cracks of her damaged spirit broke through the dam with ferocious tenacity. Her mind was instantly converted to jelly and her senses suddenly became unable to register anything apart from the most rudimentary colours and sounds. What she saw through her eyes was more akin to a weeping impressionist painting than it was reality. The walls, the air, and everything in between seemed to melt in a seeping drizzle of sensations, punctuated only by the growing whimpers now forcing their way through her lips.

She must have been able to see – as she didn't run into anything – but her mind was so damaged that she was capable of only one thing: heading to bed. And so it was, that at 8.30pm, she stumbled through her apartment and, through a veil of tears, crawled under the covers.

* * *

"_I can't do this," _he had said, only seconds after kissing her passionately, _"I feel guilty, I like you too much!"_ His voice cracked as he said the words. _"You don't deserve this – you don't deserve me and your problems."_

"_But I _want_ you and your problems…"_ Sam's voice had quavered as she tried to grasp what was going one. She had felt her happiness and her life slipping away as he moved, both physically and emotionally, away from her.

"_No you don't…" _he'd whispered with a pained voice while standing up from the couch, _"I'm too confused. I'm going to go…"_

Sam hadn't known what to say. She'd offered to give him a lift but he'd said he'd walk the half hour or so. Back to his place. Before she'd known what was going on, she had been staring at the space from which he'd disappeared, in shock.

* * *

Sam lay on her bed looking blankly at the wall. She hadn't even turned the light off. In her left hand she clutched her cell-phone, hoping against hope that he would call, text, or anything. She felt like her head was going to explode with despair as her eyes clouded over. She wasn't even in a fit state to cry. What she felt was more like a long, continuous convulsion that did not end. It was silent, it was painful, and it was paralysing.

Suddenly she understood why people referred to hearts "breaking". She hadn't even known until this moment, but it felt as if her chest was being ripped apart with a force that would rival the most severe of earthquakes. Not only that, but shockwave shooting pains extended from her broken heart and shot through her

It had only been 24 hours.

* * *

_A/N: Ok. So you now have as much of an explanation as Sam has. Any ideas? Let me know what you think…_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Oh my god I am SO sorry that it has taken me so long to post! I've become one of those sporadic posters and I feel REALLY bad! What's worse, I haven't had the time to read anyone else's work! There's an entire compendium of BookWorm's stuff for starters that I keep seeing in my alerts and not reading – it's heartbreaking!_

_Oh, that and my laptop crashed last week just AFTER I'd written this chap but BEFORE I'd saved it onto a disk or anything. The computer is completely written off so I had to rewrite!_

_Thank you so much for your kind reviews about this fic – Bookworm of course, my wonderful regulars liketoread, mikta, trtlsoup… you're all great! Oh and thanks to Lynniebear who wrote such a great review I had to write this immediately! It's really not the kind of ficI would usually write – but then the last couple of months of my life has been somewhat unusual! I'm just glad it's been well received!_

_I won't make you wait any longer though… here's the next instalment!_

**Part III – The interim**

* * *

How Sam got through the rest of the week she honestly didn't know. Her every movement and thought were a complete cloud. She was in the office early, and stayed as late as she possibly could. Since she had left SG1, she really had no reason to see Jack in a work context. On one hand she was incredibly grateful for this, while at the same time she almost had to restrain herself to her lab stool to stop from running to find him. 

He departed on a mission halfway through the week and she took solace in the thought that perhaps the time would let him think, reflect, reconsider. What on earth was he even meant to reconsider? Again and again his words and actions from that Sunday plagued her throughout this tortuous week. Everyone thought Jack O'Neill was 'mr-tough-guy' but she knew otherwise. She knew he had his demons – although she hadn't really delved into them yet. She also knew he was sensitive and considerate… the thought of his more sanguine attributes brought the tears back to her eyes and the lump further up her throat. She shook her head quickly and blinked before she could again succumb to her ever-present despair.

She believed he was genuinely upset, and despite what people might think, she didn't for a minute hate him for it. On the contrary, the fact that he was 'confused' – for whatever reason – made her feel even worse, since she couldn't help him, be there for him, hold him. Increasingly, she prayed he would come to his senses and realise he needed to be with her; that he didn't want to be without her; that whatever it was, they would get through it together.

* * *

Sam had had her first insight into Jack's insecurity a week after beginning her work at the SGC at a welcome barbecue hosted by General Hammond at his house. By this stage, Sam had told Janet of her attraction to a particularly dashing but mysterious Colonel, and the two women had begun planning. The new friends had arrived at the party together with a common plan – to get to know his story. 

Of course, she had already met Jack and was working with him in SG1 – but both their mutual professionalism and Sam's desire to prove her worth as a female officer had kept their contact and any possible flirtation to a minimum.

So it was, in the well-tendered lawn area behind the general's house, that Sam had had her first meaningful contact with Jack O'Neill. The evening was a clear success, with good music, food, and more than adequate beer and wine stocks to satisfy everyone's thirst. There were fairly lights in the trees – apparently General Hammond's grandchildren were responsible for that – that added to the magical scent of late summer flowers covering most of the bushes.

She had been talking to him almost the entire night. She was glowing inwardly and – although she didn't realise it – outwardly as their discussion ranged from the standard work-talk to music to cinema to TV (she couldn't believe one person could be so obsessed with _The Simpsons_!) and to more general cultural issues and questions. She had learned about the Jack O'Neill who wasn't in the service record; she learned that he was funny, sincere, and even maybe a little insecure.

A moment that made her smile for weeks following the party was the most telling indication she had had to date which indicated his feelings towards her were equally strong. They had been discussing some of the exploits of another new SG team member – a young Major who had done some amazing feats in his time and even received media coverage for cycling clear across the US to raise awareness for a particular charity. Jack had just begun telling a related anecdote when the music volume suddenly increased. Sam had tried to follow what he was saying but couldn't hear a word. Finally, she had to shake her head and suggest they move further away from the stereo system.

She had been puzzled to see him laugh in an almost resigned way. When she could hear him again and had questioned him, his response had caused such a rush of warmth to spread through her body she had been sure she would blush. _"I'm trying to impress you here!" _

Sam had felt so light she thought she would rise into the warm summer air and float among the colourful fairy lights that were just starting to scintillate in the shadow of the last ebb of dusk. She hadn't been able to help the enormous grin that had covered her face as he had continued his story – after they had moved a little further away from the stereo of course.

She didn't even hear what he had said, such had she become the opposite of her usual down-to-earth self. Her mind had been taken over by some quixotic force she had never believed was in her. Suddenly every shadow falling across his rugged features had seemed to trace the path she had longed for her fingers to trace on his cheek. The way his voice had seemed to crack when he was accentuating a point, the way his eyes had lit up and his eyebrows had shot upwards into his forehead during his telling of the animated tale.

All she had been able to think about – all she had been able to hear – was the underlying message of those simple words. Jack O'Neill liked her, and he was concerned with making a good impression. The thought had resonated through all corners of her mind until it reached a truly anthemic crescendo: he was good looking, competent, smart, interesting _and_ he was sensitive and possibly even a little insecure. If she hadn't been lost before, that night had definitely marked a significant point for Sam – even though she hadn't realised it at the time.

* * *

It took Sam almost a full minute to realise that Janet was standing in the doorway, and had spoken to her. She more felt the presence of her concerned friend than anything. She certainly hadn't heard what Janet had said – although it had probably been along the lines of a question asking if she was alright. Slowly, Sam turned her head, unable to chase the haunted expression from her face. 

She saw Janet gasp at her appearance, and realised how strange she must look. She knew she was pale, and she'd noticed that her skin was looking tired and listless. There were bags under her eyes even though she had slept in excess of 12 hours the night before – she imagined the exhaustion of events were taking their toll.

Even though she hadn't known the base doctor for long, they had spent enough time together and shared enough for Janet to know Sam's strength. Sam had shocked herself with her reaction and so understood the look on her friend's face all too well.

"Honey what's happened?" Janet's eyes were almost as wide open as her mouth now was, terrified of what could have put Sam into such a state.

Sam didn't know where to start or what to say. She needed to talk to someone; she needed someone to be able to tell her what was going on. If he wasn't able to do that, then maybe Janet would know. Maybe she knew and had a message from him. Maybe… anything.

"He…" she stopped, completely at a loss. Slowly, she shook her head, her eyes imploring Janet to fix the problem without even knowing what it was. A voice in the back of Sam's head was screaming at her to get a grip and get it together, but that part of her was gone. Strong Sam was in a coma – if not dead.

Sam felt her throat close over as she watched Janet swiftly close the door and move towards her, pulling up a lab stool and sitting directly in front of her friend. She waited patiently until Sam was ready, a supportive hand resting on her arm. Slowly, Sam started to speak, and with gaining momentum the entire story tumbled out of her mouth in gasps as she finally vocalised the disaster that had afflicted her.

As she did so, she felt a small bit of the crushing weight of her burden lifting. In externalising the problem she recognised that she had made the first baby step towards fixing it. The paralysing effect of her fear and anguish had not been neutralised, but as she finished her story and waited for Janet to digest the information before responding, Sam felt the first ray of hope dare to flicker somewhere in her heart.

* * *

The minute Jack had left on that night where they first kissed, Sam had closed the door behind him and jumped onto the couch, burying her head into its soft cushions with an impossibly wide grin on her face. She had pulled her head out of the coarse fabric to look at the ceiling of her apartment and had felt like singing. She had felt like dancing, shouting, jumping around and telling everyone she knew that she had just kissed Jack O'Neill. 

Within seconds her hand had found her cell phone and her thumb had begun expertly typing the joyous news into a message destined for Janet. While waiting for the response, Sam had buried her ecstatic face into the cushions again to stop herself from singing out loud and giving the neighbours a unique perspective of her mediocre musical talent.

She had lunged at the phone as the soft _dring_ of the message alert brought her only a tiny notch down from her near-euphoric state. Grinning at Janet's equal excitement at the events that had taken place, Sam had forced herself out of the couch and towards bed.

She didn't sleep much on that anticipatory night before anything had really happened. But Janet had been the first to know what was going on – and the first to have shared in her joy.

* * *

Sam waited anxiously as the shock played across Janet's face. A couple of times the doctor's mouth opened and shut silently. She even drew a sharp breath as if to say something twice, but abrupty closed her mouth again. 

"Exactly." Sam summed up quietly. "That was my exact reaction – although mine was slightly more emotional – shock."

"Oh _honey_." Janet had been paralysed by the news but with Sam's defeated tone she shook herself from the stupor and quickly wrapped her arms around the strong blonde sitting opposite her for a brief but strong hug. She knew better than to cradle Sam, as the young Captain considered herself strong. At the same time, she knew that even the most hardy of souls needed a hug occasionally.

"Sam I honestly don't know what to say – I have no idea what's going on." Janet almost felt like crying herself at this news. She had seen just how happy Sam had been those last few months. She had seen them together and had been convinced of their love for each other. He had never been able to keep his hands off her in public to the point that it had almost been too much.

"Tell me about it." Sam's voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke, looking down and controlling her breathing to try to keep control.

She had hoped that Janet would be able to shed some light on the situation – that her longer experience at the SGC would mean that she knew Jack better and could explain it all away and promise that Jack would be back with Sam by the end of the week. An expression of her incomprehension – not completely unwelcome – had not been what Sam had wanted to hear. At least she knew it wasn't just her though… at least she knew that someone else found his actions completely perplexing.

"Have you talked to him since?"

Sam shook her head slowly, still not looking up at her friend. She felt more in control of her voice, but her heart and soul were dead inside. The only way she could carry on the conversation was as a complete stranger. And so most of Sam Carter had been locked away in a corner. With such a character separation completed, she turned her head back up and faced Janet.

"He's off-world for now, and I've been avoiding contacting him – I wanted to give him some time, space, or whatever." Sam shrugged coldly. "I'll try to talk to him on Friday if I still haven't heard.

Janet nodded quietly, still unsure of what to say. Looking at the deadened sadness in her friends eyes, however, she knew she had to say something. So she said the one thing that she was praying was true.

"Sam," she placed a firm hand on Sam's forearm and looked her directly in the eye. "I've seen you two together and there's no _way_ this is final." She paused only briefly to check Sam was listening before continuing. "You two are _so _in love – even if you haven't said those words yet – that it's just not possible." As she was saying the words Janet realised she really did believe them. "He'll probably realise how much he misses you, and how he can't live without you, and come Friday – if not the day before as soon has he comes back from his mission – he'll have come to his senses."

Sam felt some of the life coming back into her heart as Janet's words penetrated deep into her. She allowed herself to hope and managed to push the uncertaintly and fear a little further away from her. With a fixed deadline, she could at least get on with her week and try to remain calm.

She nodded her head curtly to Janet and turned back to her computer, reaching for the now lukewarm coffee that was sitting next to it. Almost choking on the bitter sludge that was left in the cup she raised her hand slightly and cocked her eyebrow at Janet.

"You read my mind," Janet grinned at Sam while hopping lithely off the stool and heading towards the door. "I hear they've got blue jell-o today too…"

* * *

The night of the welcome barbecue at General Hammond's house, Sam and Jack had talked for many hours before and after his inadvertent admission of his insecurity and feelings towards the brilliant new recruit to the SGC. In her anticipation and subsequent euphoria, Sam had forgotten about a particular seemingly negligible comment. However, following Jack's "episode," as she now referred to his outburst on that Sunday night, she had begun to think about his comment again. 

Jack had been asking about Sam's past in DC and she had obliquely been explaining how glad she was to have had the opportunity to move away from a life that no longer interested her and threatened to leave her despondent and unhappy.

Sam had already known that Jack had come out of retirement for the inaugural mission involving the Stargate a year before her arrival. Naturally, she had asked why he had retired and what he had been doing.

The instant change in his character had not gone unnoticed. Jack had immediately looked away briefly – a moment to collect his thoughts – before shifting from side to side and quietly mumbling something about having had enough and how the military had had an adverse effect on his family.

Then he had mentioned the composite word that had caused Sam to feel almost sick to her stomach: _"ex-wife"_. Immediately questions had starting flying around her mind but she had known that she wouldn't ask even one of them. Why had they broken up? How long ago had they broken up? Was he still in love with her? Was he ready for another relationship? Was she really his ex, or were they just separated? Were there kids? What-?" How-?" Why-?"

The questions had all bombarded Sam's quick mind instantaneously and in the split second it had taken for her to put a stop to the agony, she had been sure her face had relayed the panic she had felt. Luckily, however, Jack's discomfort had meant he was looking elsewhere.

It had been less than ten minutes later that Jack had commented on "trying to impress her", and thus Sam had pushed the uncertainty of the "ex" issue to one of the farthest reaches of her mind.

As Friday following the "episode" drew closer, however, Sam's mind was persistently bringing her to this particular memory. Stubbornly, she ignored it.

* * *

_A/N: Ok, so I know I still haven't given you an explanation, but those of you who know my work will know that although I string things out, the clues are usually there if you want to try to join the dots yourself! _

_Mind you, we've moved into the next phase of the story (notice how we've reached actual dialogue), and the explanation is coming in the next chap – I PROMISE! This was never meant to be more than a two or maybe three parter, so be warned there's not a lot of it left. _

_Just two questions for you all: how are the time changes reading? Is it easy to figure out when I'm describing the present and the past? I've just been doing it through grammar, but I've also been trying to make sure I alternate… does it make sense?_

_Second question: whaddaya think? Any and all thoughts welcome… especially if you want something explained/resolved or an aspect of the relationship put into the story… _


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: I know, another ridiculous delay in posting. Rest assured I have two chapters in quick succession as a vote of apology. If people still care, I'll work on finishing this story in the next week or so – and then move on to Alter Ego!_

_It's good to be back!_

**Part IV – Questions and Answers**

* * *

Friday morning seemed like any other as Sam walked into the coffee shop she and Jack had always met at on their way to Cheyenne Mountain. She was still going there, hoping to run into him and that this meeting would realign all the stars to normality. He would walk in, sly grin on his face, clasp her hand, and give her a soft kiss on the lips. They would then order coffee and chat idly as they waited for the barista to prepare their order.

The friendly barista, a young woman named Kira, knew exactly what they liked but also had an uncanny ability to be able to make subtle changes to their preferences depending on their mood or even the weather on that day. Tellingly, Kira had bee preparing Sam's usual cappuccino with a dash of caramel – syrupy sweetness to fortify her that little bit more for the day ahead.

That Friday morning, as with the other four mornings since Jack had inexplicably closed a door between them, Sam walked into the coffee shop with the same guarded optimism that he would be there, all the while trying to prepare herself for the eventuality that he would, in fact, be nowhere to be seen.

Kira waved and started the machine on the task of making Sam's order. Sam scanned the room and felt her heart break even a little more inside her chest – as if it hadn't already broken enough. He wasn't there, again. She felt a surge of anguish rise up her chest and took a couple of deep breaths to calm her nerves. Planting a brave smile on her face she entered into some light banter with Kira and then took her coffee outside.

Once upon a time Sam and Jack would have walked purposefully out of the café, talking animatedly about the excitement of working in the Stargate program, or about the latest political scandal that seemed to plague the idiots who were apparently in charge of the country.

They would probably be running a little late for work now, but their steps would slow and they would linger as they approached whoever's car was closer. Of course they still had to drive to work separately, in order to keep a level of professionalism while at the base.

Sam had felt so content in these precious moments in the bright morning light. Her life had changed so much in the previous couple of months – it had gone from being ordinary, a chore even at times, to something amazing. She understood what people meant in schmalzy songs when they sang of flowers being brighter, air being sweeter, and nature truly seeming to bloom in the knowledge that new love had begun.

Now nature seemed to be mocking her. The morning sunlight was still bright. Birds were still singing and flowers were as brightly coloured as before. The difference was that now it was cold. The crisp, bright air was freezing, the colours of nature and flowers clashed together in a noisy cacophony that made Sam's eyes sting, and what was once sweet singing had become birds screeching in the trees above, bombarding her ears with noise when all she wanted as silence; nothingness.

* * *

Sam walked listlessly out of the café and fished absent-mindedly for her keys as she moved towards her car. There would be no lingering, no smelling the sweet air as they sipped their coffee and chat, no nothing.

Raising her head to navigate the last few steps to the door of her car Sam suddenly stopped still, her grip loosening and nearly dropping her coffee. Lifting his head from the ATM and turning towards her was Jack.

Her heart leaped and countless emotions competed for attention as her eyes gleaned over his smooth skin, toned physique and ruffled early morning hair. The corners of her mouth started to form a large grin but she caught herself immediately, reducing the effect to a nervous smile as she quickly cast her eyes to the ground, trying to figure out what to do next.

Her interim wish had been granted – she was about to talk to him. But what would he say? There had been no contact and while the silence had been kept she could keep hoping that everything would return to normal. Now, now she wasn't sure. What was he going to say? Would it make her fast crumbling world disintegrate altogether? The mere thought of this nearly prompted her to leap into her car and screech away at full speed.

Instead, she stood her ground as he walked nervously towards her.

"Hi," she heard her voice say with betraying strength.

"You're still getting coffee from that place?" Jack asked with apparent surprise, "I thought you only went there because it was a good mid-point for us to meet"

Sam felt caught out – what if he thought she was stalking him? "Well I've gotta get coffee from somewhere, _sir_," she said quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth, "and I happen to like the coffee here."

"Yeah I guess," Jack shrugged.

They stood there awkwardly for a few moments, eyes darting to and fro looking for any clues in the other and then looking away so as not to reveal anything.

"So-" Sam's voice nearly cracked as she tried to ask at least fifty questions of Jack at once. "So… how are you?"

"Okay." The quiet response

"I mean-" Sam tried again, doing her best to keep her voice calm. "I mean… What happened why did you leave what are you thinking why haven't I heard from you what happened?!" The questions tumbled out from her mouth so quickly she couldn't have stopped them if she wanted to. She held her gaze this time, looking directly at him and refusing to look away. A lone tear started forming at the corner of her eye but she ignored it, defiantly demanding answers.

Jack focussed his gaze just to left, his head bowed as if with shame as he tried desperately to find some words that would answer her questions. "I… I just felt guilty. Increasingly guilty."

"About what? Why?" Sam wasn't going to let him get away with vague statements.

"About being with you when…" his voice trailed away.

Sam's heart plummeted in her chest and her shoulders slumped. "Your ex." She said quietly, looking at him cautiously, hoping she was wrong.

He just nodded in response, licking his lips and clearing his throat with difficulty.

"So you're feeling confused and guilty because you were with me and you feel like you should be with her?" Sam couldn't believe that she had treated her relationship with Jack as past tense.

"No… yes…" his eyes searched everywhere for the words to come to him and articulate his feelings. "It's just, if I'm with you, it means giving up on her." He was crying now, tears steaming down his cheeks and his words thick with emotion.

Sam felt she could throw up the sips of coffee she had taken, and looked down at the raisin-toast in her hand with disgust. He still loved _her_ – the ex. He couldn't move on.

"I like you too much… I don't want my problems to muck it up," Jack pleaded quickly, his eyes full of pain. "I just… I just don't know and I need to think."

Sam could barely speak. Her world was now definitely spiralling out of control and the dizziness was almost overpowering. "So that's it then?" she choked the question, trying with all her might to remain composed enough to at least have this conversation, before disintegrating in privacy later.

"For now, yes," Jack almost whispered the words, "I'm sorry."

Sam raised her head and looked at him, her eyes full of sadness. What she saw was almost a reflection of feeling. Try as she might, she couldn't be angry at him. He was genuinely confused and injured and, in a sense, was doing her a favour by being upfront about it. Closing her eyes tightly to try to stop the tears falling down her cheeks, she wished with all her might that she could hate him for it.

She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how much she had grown to need him, but couldn't. It would just make him feel worse. She realised that the "guilt" he was feeling was both for his ex but also for her. She could see in his eyes that he genuinely wished that he hadn't done this to her and it broke her heart.

"Ok." She said quietly, not knowing what else to do. "Ok, well, I guess I'll see you then." He hugged her for the last time and she felt his arms squeeze her so tight she nearly collapsed into them. Quickly she withdrew and, with a wan smile, turned on her heels and walked purposefully to the car.

She refused to look back but couldn't stop herself from glancing into her rear-view mirror while driving away, just in time to see him look up from where he stood, rooted to the spot, his eyes red with tears. Through the silence that engulfed her ears she heard the distinctive sound of two hearts breaking.

* * *

_A/N: Questions? Comments? Let me know… _


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Final chapter for this story. I think this is actually a good ending to this fic. I know a lot of you may not agree, but in the context of the story and the show it is like the end of a chapter. _

_I might be persuaded to write the next one if you ask nicely?_

**Chapter V – Bittersweet **

* * *

The intense pain that Sam had felt that week never left her. The weeks and months passed and life – in what seemed to be nothing short of a miracle – went on. She settled into her role at the SGC as slowly but surely her superiors started to appreciate the true danger posed by the Goa'uld. Six months after that fateful week she even returned to the field. First as part of the scientific team tasked with accompanying SG teams on specific missions, but eventually she took her place in SG-1, alongside the very person who had brought about so much pain.

That had been one of the most difficult days since beginning her work at the SGC. It had been clear for some time that her true place was in the field. It was glaringly obvious that she should – if possible – be part of SG-1. Both Sam and the Colonel, however, had taken some intense convincing. General Hammond had given them the choice. He had even suggested initially that Sam begin operations in another SG team, but at the end of the day she knew that for the sake of her career, she needed to be in SG-1. Even Jack hadn't tried to dissuade her, but sitting as they were across the cool smooth table in the meeting room above the gateroom she could see his indecision. The indecision was surely reflected in her eyes as the possibilities raced through her head and her heart broke all over again.

The rules were clear. Even when she hadn't been part of SG-1 it would have been difficult for them to be together. As 2IC in the base the regulations are clear for Jack and Sam. Back in those early days of bliss they had had a plan to deal with this… but now there would be no plan, and joining the same team would definitely kill any future plans. Sam tried to rationalise in her mind that it didn't mean the end; it didn't mean moving on… it didin't mean **he** had moved on. But in her heart she knew otherwise. In her heart she knew that with every passing day they would grow further apart, even when physically as members of the same team they would be thrust closer together.

She wished she could talk to him and tell him how she felt and how conflicted she was in this decision. A couple of times she even walked down the corridor towards his office… her heart pounding in her chest… but every time she'd kept walking past the open door, stifling a smile when she caught a glimpse of him playing his Game Boy instead of writing mission reports. The gift of time since that fateful week had given her head some clarity, a little dose of reality. She almost didn't know how she could have been that wrapped up in her own feelings as to jeopardise her career in the Air Force. Quietly she was a little ashamed.

It was this desire to succeed at almost any cost that held the resolve in her mind; kept her from collapsing when all she wanted to do was sink into a heap on the floor and melt into the wall. But that wasn't Sam Carter, and she kept reminding herself of that. She was… she **is** strong. As strong as any of the male SGC personnel, if not stronger than most of them. Top of all her classes in the academy; a natural athlete and one of the surest shots in the force; capable of taking out any target at almost impossible distances.

Success was happiness and she was going to be successful. She was going to be a member of SG-1, led by Colonel Jack O'Neill.

* * *

Sam stepped inside the front door of her house with an overwhelming sense of relief. Against all odds she found herself laughing. Not just giggling, but shaking, head bobbing, **roaring** with laughter. The tears sprang to life with the joy she felt at just getting through that mission. The thrill of still being alive. The thrill of beating the bad guy. The pangs of sadness and anger at losing some good people weighed on her subconscious and would truly hit her in due course, but for now the giddy joy of surviving was happily overwhelming.

"Did I miss something?"

Sam nearly choked with the shock of realising someone else was in her house. When she looked over to the armchair her eyes locked with its occupant and all the muscles in her legs locked simultaneously such that she nearly tipped over from the inertia of walking in the door. She grabbed onto the wall next to her for dear life as her heartrate peaked well above what it had ever been in the heat of battle just 24 hours earlier.

"S-sir?" Sam composed her stance, managed to let go of the wall and was even able to remove her bag from her shoulder onto the hall table in a nonchalant manner. "Is everything ok?"

Jack kept his hands placed firmly on the arms of the chair, but made sure his fists weren't clenched. He was sure she could tell, but he was trying above all else to look as if he wasn't clutching the chair in an attempt to ground himself and keep calm.

"No, no… everything's fine Captain," Jack said, almost too eagerly, "I just… ah… well the mission was pretty tough on all of us… being captured – again – threatened with torture – again – genuinely fearing for our lives and losing some good people…" he trailed off, realising that the sentence wasn't going in a good direction. "I mean, you know!" He tried again, "I just wanted to check.. ah… that it all went ok."

Sam smiled inwardly and moved across the room, choosing to sit on the couch across from Jack's position. She felt light-headed after going from such hysterical relief to the complete shock of seeing Jack in that armchair in her living room.

Sitting across the coffee table from each other gave them some distance, but also brought an air of confrontation which Sam regretted. It was just too hard to be any closer, and she knew it. The first mission had gone well in terms of the team dynamic. There had been no moment where Sam or Jack had forgotten their roles and acted in a way that would endanger others or the mission. They had been able to work together, trusting each other implicitly and even enjoying some casual – albeit tentative – banter. But she knew why he was here asking her the question. It was one that needed to be asked. Working together on a once-off mission was one thing. Seeing each other every day would be another matter altogether. As Sam drew a deep breath, she wasn't even sure what her answer would be.

"Do **you **think it went ok sir?" Sam asked quietly, looking up through her tired eyes to meet Jack's. She knew what she wanted to say, that it was wonderful, horrible, exciting and a momentous relief all at once. But being frank with Colonel O'Neill was no longer really an option, at least not for now. A certain distance would have to be kept, for both their sakes – professional and personal.

Jack shrugged and tried for a wry smile but only really managed a slightly pensive gaze in Sam's direction. "Yeah, I guess…" he said quietly. "I mean, we're still here, the Goa'uld seem to be getting the message that we're not going to just lie down and take it." He paused, turning his head away slightly but shifting his gaze back to meet Sam's. "And I think Daniel and Teal'c like having you on the team…" he trailed off.

Sam's breath caught at the mention of the team. _Their_ team now – a shared commodity which she had thought a lost hope those months ago in the wake of her broken heart. The wounds hadn't healed, but it had been important to her to be able to move on with her life.

"Ummm, yeah" Sam managed to say with a small smile, a glimmer of sparkle returning to her eyes, "It was great to be part of SG-1 for this mission. I… uh… I liked working with the whole team." She tried to calm herself down as her heart was now beating in a semi-irregular manner.

Why? There was nothing too out-there in their conversation right now, was there? They hadn't talked about their relationship… but then, they had _talked_. This was as normal a conversation they had been able to have for too long. And even now it seemed to be taking place in a tense environment. But it was an improvement. With a flash of fear Sam realised why her heart was racing. Why sitting here in her own house and having a quiet but friendly conversation with her superior officer was causing such breathlessness. It was painfully obvious in a way that made her stand straight up, heading discretely towards the door in an attempt to usher Jack out the door.

She had hope. But hope would get her nowhere in this situation. He must leave. Working on the same team, she could handle. But socialising outside of work? Even in this quasi-pastoral care role he had adopted, it was not going to work. He needed to go.

"Well, that's good." Jack said with a measured voice, getting to his feet and working with precise steps towards the front door that Sam now held slightly ajar in a signal for him to leave. "I just… ah… you know."

"Yes sir," Sam said matter of factly before he could say anything else. "See you in mission briefing tomorrow."

As the door closed behind Jack, Sam felt the near-hysterical laughter return, thought not quite for the reason as before. Errant tears escaped from her scrunched up eyes in a pique of happiness, exhaustion, relief and anguish. She was ok. They were ok. Life could move on, but not as before.

Every day she would be reminded of her love for the man she must only call "sir" from now on.

* * *

_A/N: It has been an absolute roller coaster for me to write this over the past 2 years. Inspired by a pain I had never known before, and hope to never know again. I have sought strength through expression in writing this fic and through wonderful fortune, after much time, I have found love again with my very own impossible love. _

_Thank you for reading. Albi xx_


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